Scan barcode
justinkhchen's reviews
571 reviews
The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell
3.0
3 stars
Begin my review as usual with a random movie association; structurally, The Silent Companions reminds me of Takashi Shimizu J-Horror classic, The Grudge, where a physical location is occupied by a malevolent energy, and whoever comes in contact (disregarding their virtue) will meet their tragic fate.
Laura Purcell weaves an elegantly structured tale, switching between 3 different timelines, covering the entity's quiet, ominous beginning, all the ways through its wicked manifestation. The stroke of genius is most definitely the incorporation of silent companions as the pivotal 'cursed object'. I wasn't aware of such artifact prior to this, and it is the most perfect prop for this story. For observant readers, The Silent Companions will be a treasure trove; leaving gaps between information and let readers connect the dots. This a novel that will reward people who pay close attention to details.
(p.s.: there's one element that was never fully explained in the book, but its implication is confirmed by the author in the Q&A section on goodreads; I definitely noticed it, but was still mind-blown on how much it changed the reading of certain character dynamic.)
*Minor spoiler ahead**
The novel is so invested in its bleakness, that the actual reading experience is equally (perhaps intentionally) agonizing. The Silent Companions is relentlessly dreary; the story opens with everything already in a state of sorrow, and things just get progressively worse as the story reveals itself. Tonally, it reminds me of Charlotte Perkins Gilman's classic short story, The Yellow Wallpaper, where the Gothic horror tropes are used as vehicle for social commentary. Laura Purcell casts a wide net, covering a gamut of misogyny during the 19th century: ostracism, witchcraft, ableism, and sexual abuse. However, something that works well in short dosage (like a 70+ pages short story), is excessive and counter-effective in long-form without careful calibration: we have a protagonist who lost her husband after weeks of marriage, then lost her pregnancy, then lost her whole staff in mysterious deaths, then lost her only sibling, while being tormented psychologically by the haunting, and ultimately condemned by society. A little levity and tonal shift throughout could've resolved this unpleasantness.
**Minor spoiler ends**
While I fully acknowledge The Silent Companions's intent and merit, I can't say I enjoy it as a book for leisure. It feels scholarly at times, like I should be taking down notes for group discussion, or analyzing its literary expression and societal criticism in essay. Which are all just backhanded compliments for author Laura Purcell, who manages to pack so much substance into this bewildering tale of moving wooden objects. Ultimately, take my lack of enthusiasm with a grain of salt—I went into it anticipating a 'fun and breezy' horror story that will simply give me a good shock or two, but ended up getting a crash course on female oppression.
As long as you know what you're getting into, it's remains a pretty darn polished piece of work.
Begin my review as usual with a random movie association; structurally, The Silent Companions reminds me of Takashi Shimizu J-Horror classic, The Grudge, where a physical location is occupied by a malevolent energy, and whoever comes in contact (disregarding their virtue) will meet their tragic fate.
Laura Purcell weaves an elegantly structured tale, switching between 3 different timelines, covering the entity's quiet, ominous beginning, all the ways through its wicked manifestation. The stroke of genius is most definitely the incorporation of silent companions as the pivotal 'cursed object'. I wasn't aware of such artifact prior to this, and it is the most perfect prop for this story. For observant readers, The Silent Companions will be a treasure trove; leaving gaps between information and let readers connect the dots. This a novel that will reward people who pay close attention to details.
(p.s.: there's one element that was never fully explained in the book, but its implication is confirmed by the author in the Q&A section on goodreads; I definitely noticed it, but was still mind-blown on how much it changed the reading of certain character dynamic.)
*Minor spoiler ahead**
The novel is so invested in its bleakness, that the actual reading experience is equally (perhaps intentionally) agonizing. The Silent Companions is relentlessly dreary; the story opens with everything already in a state of sorrow, and things just get progressively worse as the story reveals itself. Tonally, it reminds me of Charlotte Perkins Gilman's classic short story, The Yellow Wallpaper, where the Gothic horror tropes are used as vehicle for social commentary. Laura Purcell casts a wide net, covering a gamut of misogyny during the 19th century: ostracism, witchcraft, ableism, and sexual abuse. However, something that works well in short dosage (like a 70+ pages short story), is excessive and counter-effective in long-form without careful calibration: we have a protagonist who lost her husband after weeks of marriage, then lost her pregnancy, then lost her whole staff in mysterious deaths, then lost her only sibling, while being tormented psychologically by the haunting, and ultimately condemned by society. A little levity and tonal shift throughout could've resolved this unpleasantness.
**Minor spoiler ends**
While I fully acknowledge The Silent Companions's intent and merit, I can't say I enjoy it as a book for leisure. It feels scholarly at times, like I should be taking down notes for group discussion, or analyzing its literary expression and societal criticism in essay. Which are all just backhanded compliments for author Laura Purcell, who manages to pack so much substance into this bewildering tale of moving wooden objects. Ultimately, take my lack of enthusiasm with a grain of salt—I went into it anticipating a 'fun and breezy' horror story that will simply give me a good shock or two, but ended up getting a crash course on female oppression.
As long as you know what you're getting into, it's remains a pretty darn polished piece of work.
The Price of Temptation by Harmony Williams
3.0
3 stars
The Price of Temptation has moments of passion and thrill, but its overall impact is somewhat undone by uneven character portrayal and a sluggish plot.
The story hits its peak whenever it showcases its protagonists' unique skill; Adam Darling (what a fun last name, by the way) is a reformed con artist with secrets, and Lily is a heartbroken jewellery maker. No matter if it is a simple act of persuasion, forgery, or stealing ancient artifact, the novel comes alive during these instances, and really illustrates the charismatic duo as potential partners, both in crime and in bed.
Compare to the engaging display of deception, The Price of Temptation's plot is a one-trick pony, with its over-dependence on character concealing intent or predicament, in order to drive conflict and drama. Why would a someone, whose entire goal is to make amend, not disclose it and simply let being misunderstood (until 60% into the story)? Why would someone hold on to a family financial peril, when it has impact on all members (besides beyond one's ability to resolve)? Such narrative maneuver can definitely work, but as implemented here, it feels manipulative and renders these characters unrealistic.
The Price of Temptation also suffers from a very silly central villain, whose motivation doesn't really justify his action, and his schemes, full of loopholes, are easily overturned to his disadvantage. Yet, the protagonists are portrayed as obedient sheep, blindly following his demands, rather than trying to outsmart him (they eventually revolt in the last act, but why would any reasonable minds wait that long?).
All in all, The Price of Temptation has two compassionate leads, but they are being drown out and dumb down by a plot that has more interest in padding out page count, than telling a truly compelling, character-driven story.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
The Price of Temptation has moments of passion and thrill, but its overall impact is somewhat undone by uneven character portrayal and a sluggish plot.
The story hits its peak whenever it showcases its protagonists' unique skill; Adam Darling (what a fun last name, by the way) is a reformed con artist with secrets, and Lily is a heartbroken jewellery maker. No matter if it is a simple act of persuasion, forgery, or stealing ancient artifact, the novel comes alive during these instances, and really illustrates the charismatic duo as potential partners, both in crime and in bed.
Compare to the engaging display of deception, The Price of Temptation's plot is a one-trick pony, with its over-dependence on character concealing intent or predicament, in order to drive conflict and drama. Why would a someone, whose entire goal is to make amend, not disclose it and simply let being misunderstood (until 60% into the story)? Why would someone hold on to a family financial peril, when it has impact on all members (besides beyond one's ability to resolve)? Such narrative maneuver can definitely work, but as implemented here, it feels manipulative and renders these characters unrealistic.
The Price of Temptation also suffers from a very silly central villain, whose motivation doesn't really justify his action, and his schemes, full of loopholes, are easily overturned to his disadvantage. Yet, the protagonists are portrayed as obedient sheep, blindly following his demands, rather than trying to outsmart him (they eventually revolt in the last act, but why would any reasonable minds wait that long?).
All in all, The Price of Temptation has two compassionate leads, but they are being drown out and dumb down by a plot that has more interest in padding out page count, than telling a truly compelling, character-driven story.
***This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Much appreciated!***
Romancing the Duke by Tessa Dare
4.0
4 stars
Reading Tessa Dare is like watching a good Disney princess movie, but with sex.
Romancing the Duke is essentially a retooling of Beauty and the Beast, a headstrong, if slightly down-on-her-luck heroine, and a bundle deal of a grumpy duke with his dilapidated castle. Even with this well-worn framework, the narrative throws in enough fresh spin on things (some surprisingly contemporary ones, like the concept of a fandom), making this journey still well worth taking.
There's no question, Tessa Dare is a master at creating likable leads. Remaining true to her romantic comedy niche, she has nailed the perfect character formula that exaggerates for comedic effect, yet still maintains his/her integrity as a relatable, sympathetic human being; naive characters never derail into helpless dimwit, and the antagonistic ones always possesses enough charm and quirkiness, making them easily redeemable and fall for.
The comparison to Disney animations really comes down to the comedic style, both deliver the funnies via snazzy, witty dialogs, and well-timed awkward silence, where characters are startled motionless, simply let the preceding impact (or trauma) sinks in.
Romancing the Duke is so cute and wholesome, that when the sex comes (and they are steamy), it's almost a little... unsettling? Then again, this might just be a personal issue, as I've convinced myself the story was played out by Disney-like animated characters not dissimilar to Tangled or Frozen (and animated sex scene is really not my cup of tea, ha!).
This is an easy recommendation for a fun, historical, romantic sexy time.
Reading Tessa Dare is like watching a good Disney princess movie, but with sex.
Romancing the Duke is essentially a retooling of Beauty and the Beast, a headstrong, if slightly down-on-her-luck heroine, and a bundle deal of a grumpy duke with his dilapidated castle. Even with this well-worn framework, the narrative throws in enough fresh spin on things (some surprisingly contemporary ones, like the concept of a fandom), making this journey still well worth taking.
There's no question, Tessa Dare is a master at creating likable leads. Remaining true to her romantic comedy niche, she has nailed the perfect character formula that exaggerates for comedic effect, yet still maintains his/her integrity as a relatable, sympathetic human being; naive characters never derail into helpless dimwit, and the antagonistic ones always possesses enough charm and quirkiness, making them easily redeemable and fall for.
The comparison to Disney animations really comes down to the comedic style, both deliver the funnies via snazzy, witty dialogs, and well-timed awkward silence, where characters are startled motionless, simply let the preceding impact (or trauma) sinks in.
Romancing the Duke is so cute and wholesome, that when the sex comes (and they are steamy), it's almost a little... unsettling? Then again, this might just be a personal issue, as I've convinced myself the story was played out by Disney-like animated characters not dissimilar to Tangled or Frozen (and animated sex scene is really not my cup of tea, ha!).
This is an easy recommendation for a fun, historical, romantic sexy time.
A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman
5.0
5 stars
Sometimes the most touching story is derived from a life simply lived; A Man Called Ove celebrates the mundane and reflects on the nuance of life, death, and love, all through the perspective of a grumpy old Swedish man called Ove.
Suicide plays a huge role in this story (so beware if you're sensitive regarding this specific subject matter), but it's implemented rather cleverly here, as the main driving force fleshing out Ove's backstory, as well as providing momentum moving the story forward. The book's episodic structure (each chapter is essentially a self-contained story) is filled with anecdotes from one's daily routine: Ove meets his new neighbor, Ove tries to buy a computer, etc. Like how Seinfeld is known as 'a show about nothing', the collected minutiae of daily life slows builds into something layered and relatable, you can't help but ultimately feel passionate about its cast of diverse characters—the book leaves you with an ending that is heartwarming, with a hint of melancholy. But that's also life in a nutshell.
A Man Called Ove is an easy recommendation; a charming tale that appears simple at first, but with a universal message and potent lasting power. It will make you contemplate about the experiences that shape someone into who they are, and the unpredictability of this thing we call living.
Also cat, I'm not a cat person, but might have swayed my judgment after reading this.
P.S.: Try the audiobook if you have a chance, the narration is pretty outstanding.
Sometimes the most touching story is derived from a life simply lived; A Man Called Ove celebrates the mundane and reflects on the nuance of life, death, and love, all through the perspective of a grumpy old Swedish man called Ove.
Suicide plays a huge role in this story (so beware if you're sensitive regarding this specific subject matter), but it's implemented rather cleverly here, as the main driving force fleshing out Ove's backstory, as well as providing momentum moving the story forward. The book's episodic structure (each chapter is essentially a self-contained story) is filled with anecdotes from one's daily routine: Ove meets his new neighbor, Ove tries to buy a computer, etc. Like how Seinfeld is known as 'a show about nothing', the collected minutiae of daily life slows builds into something layered and relatable, you can't help but ultimately feel passionate about its cast of diverse characters—the book leaves you with an ending that is heartwarming, with a hint of melancholy. But that's also life in a nutshell.
A Man Called Ove is an easy recommendation; a charming tale that appears simple at first, but with a universal message and potent lasting power. It will make you contemplate about the experiences that shape someone into who they are, and the unpredictability of this thing we call living.
Also cat, I'm not a cat person, but might have swayed my judgment after reading this.
P.S.: Try the audiobook if you have a chance, the narration is pretty outstanding.
Behind Her Eyes by Sarah Pinborough
2.0
2.5 stars
Behind Her Eyes is mostly a yawn-inducing infidelity thriller, until it introduces a provocative concept in its second half. Then, for its closure, the book pushes this seed of idea beyond the most ridiculous extreme, which garners its #WTFthatending marketing back in 2017. From a pure shock value perspective, the twist most definitely delivers, but in its desperation to achieve unpredictability, it also becomes a parody of its genre (like the Scary Movie franchise on teenage slasher films).
If the intent here is really to create a satirical thriller, I'll be willing to bump up my rating to 3.5 stars.
I also come to realize I'm not a fan of story that solely relies on mental illness or disorder as the source of 'thrill'; it feels rather exploitative and cheap, an easy way to explain away illogical decision, mistaken memory, and unreasonable violence. In Behind Her Eyes, all 3 characters we are following have varying shades of issue: insomniac, alcoholic, and psychotic; everyone is behaving so erratically and unreasonable, in the end I gave up on parsing through the legitimacy of the plot.
"If you love someone, set them free... what a load of bollocks"—Behind Her Eyes
It reminds me of the much ridiculed ending to M. Night Shyamalan's The Village (which I actually do enjoy as a whole), where it sort of makes sense within its own fragile parameter, but completely breaks apart upon further analysis. Behind Her Eyes banks on its silly, completely bonkers of an ending to do all the heavy lifting, while I applaud Sarah Pinborough for having the gut to 'go there', I don't know if it's worth going through 300+ pages of formulaic mediocrity.
Behind Her Eyes is mostly a yawn-inducing infidelity thriller, until it introduces a provocative concept in its second half. Then, for its closure, the book pushes this seed of idea beyond the most ridiculous extreme, which garners its #WTFthatending marketing back in 2017. From a pure shock value perspective, the twist most definitely delivers, but in its desperation to achieve unpredictability, it also becomes a parody of its genre (like the Scary Movie franchise on teenage slasher films).
If the intent here is really to create a satirical thriller, I'll be willing to bump up my rating to 3.5 stars.
I also come to realize I'm not a fan of story that solely relies on mental illness or disorder as the source of 'thrill'; it feels rather exploitative and cheap, an easy way to explain away illogical decision, mistaken memory, and unreasonable violence. In Behind Her Eyes, all 3 characters we are following have varying shades of issue: insomniac, alcoholic, and psychotic; everyone is behaving so erratically and unreasonable, in the end I gave up on parsing through the legitimacy of the plot.
"If you love someone, set them free... what a load of bollocks"—Behind Her Eyes
It reminds me of the much ridiculed ending to M. Night Shyamalan's The Village (which I actually do enjoy as a whole), where it sort of makes sense within its own fragile parameter, but completely breaks apart upon further analysis. Behind Her Eyes banks on its silly, completely bonkers of an ending to do all the heavy lifting, while I applaud Sarah Pinborough for having the gut to 'go there', I don't know if it's worth going through 300+ pages of formulaic mediocrity.
Mad about the Duke by Elizabeth Boyle
3.0
3 stars
Two well-paired, charismatic leads, but where is the story?! Truly a skill in of itself, I wish I possess this power to fill pages about almost nothing, when I was writing my essays in high school.
I should've anticipated the bare-bone plot when an ill-fitted jacket is elevated as such an important story element, being a major conversation focus with every single character throughout the first 100+ pages of this 346 pages novel.
Elizabeth Boyle's lively, addictive writing style kept me going, and the two leads definitely possess romantic spark; the novel comes alive every time the two come together—even though the 'mistaken identity' trope implemented here is built upon such weak conceit (literally everyone knows the truth except for the naive heroine, who simply couldn't figure it out until the last 20 pages).
Mad about the Duke definitely benefits from reading the seires in order, as the first chapter seems to pick up immediately after a previous event. If you're like me, jumping in without prior knowledge, beware the book doesn't recollect character backstories. It doesn't bother me too much, but the story will definitely resonate more with prior knowledge.
Super fun in spots, but hollow overall; I wouldn't mind continuing check out Elizabeth Boyle's work (thanks to her skilled writing), but need a recommendation for a plot-driven book of hers; because reading 300+ pages only about the girl stubbornly ignoring hints, and the guy's countless monologues about falling head over heels, is pretty ridiculous.
Having said that, I'm actually a little curious about the 'origin story' of the character Jack Tremont, which is apparently told in Book 2, This Rake of Mine.
BONUS ➵ Chapter Notes
CH1
p.2 The female lead is already in love with the stranger in front of her, proclaiming 'the right man could make a lady's night heavenly.' Definitely not wasting any time here
p.4 What's up with me picking books featuring animal birth!? First a horse in Eloisa James' The Taming of the Duke, and now a greyhound is having 6 puppies—you bet I'm going to YouTube that right now—learning so much about animal life cycle through historical romance
p.12 hullabaloo (means 'commotion'), new word to me; and as a graphic designer who looks at letters all day, that's a very handsome looking sequences of alphabet.
p.18 'Even if it was a situation, deserving of italics and emphasis'—I like the breaking the fourth wall writing there
Two well-paired, charismatic leads, but where is the story?! Truly a skill in of itself, I wish I possess this power to fill pages about almost nothing, when I was writing my essays in high school.
I should've anticipated the bare-bone plot when an ill-fitted jacket is elevated as such an important story element, being a major conversation focus with every single character throughout the first 100+ pages of this 346 pages novel.
Elizabeth Boyle's lively, addictive writing style kept me going, and the two leads definitely possess romantic spark; the novel comes alive every time the two come together—even though the 'mistaken identity' trope implemented here is built upon such weak conceit (literally everyone knows the truth except for the naive heroine, who simply couldn't figure it out until the last 20 pages).
Mad about the Duke definitely benefits from reading the seires in order, as the first chapter seems to pick up immediately after a previous event. If you're like me, jumping in without prior knowledge, beware the book doesn't recollect character backstories. It doesn't bother me too much, but the story will definitely resonate more with prior knowledge.
Super fun in spots, but hollow overall; I wouldn't mind continuing check out Elizabeth Boyle's work (thanks to her skilled writing), but need a recommendation for a plot-driven book of hers; because reading 300+ pages only about the girl stubbornly ignoring hints, and the guy's countless monologues about falling head over heels, is pretty ridiculous.
Having said that, I'm actually a little curious about the 'origin story' of the character Jack Tremont, which is apparently told in Book 2, This Rake of Mine.
BONUS ➵ Chapter Notes
CH1
p.2 The female lead is already in love with the stranger in front of her, proclaiming 'the right man could make a lady's night heavenly.' Definitely not wasting any time here
p.4 What's up with me picking books featuring animal birth!? First a horse in Eloisa James' The Taming of the Duke, and now a greyhound is having 6 puppies—you bet I'm going to YouTube that right now—learning so much about animal life cycle through historical romance
p.12 hullabaloo (means 'commotion'), new word to me; and as a graphic designer who looks at letters all day, that's a very handsome looking sequences of alphabet.
p.18 'Even if it was a situation, deserving of italics and emphasis'—I like the breaking the fourth wall writing there
In the House in the Dark of the Woods by Laird Hunt
4.0
4 stars
A fairy tale-structured narrative set in colonial New England, with witches; the best way to approach In the House in the Dark of the Woods is to follow along without over-analyzing it (at least through the first reading), you will likely be disoriented and unsure what's the intent of it all (as I was), but slowly and surely you'll get used to its boundless logic and the recurrence of imagery and event will gradually layer up to something much more substantial.
Comparison to Lewis Carrol's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is totally appropriate, as I would also consider this to be an entry in the literary nonsense genre. While the story is plenty enjoyable on the surface level, as an out-of-this-world fantasy adventure with a historical bent, there lies a deeper, more mature undercurrent throughout; I picked up references to mental illness, societal treatment to women at the time, and the first-settlers hardship on unfamiliar land.
This is yet again another book for which I would highly recommend the audio version, as Laird Hunt's sing-song writing style really comes alive when delivered through a narrator. Which, I should also add, is a nice echo to how fairy tales were kept relevant in the first place, through word of mouth passing down from generation to generation.
Written and structured like a traditional bedtime story, but with a darker subject matter; In the House in the Dark of the Woods is a memorizing blend of child-like fantasy and mature horror, one that I will return to in constant dosage.
A fairy tale-structured narrative set in colonial New England, with witches; the best way to approach In the House in the Dark of the Woods is to follow along without over-analyzing it (at least through the first reading), you will likely be disoriented and unsure what's the intent of it all (as I was), but slowly and surely you'll get used to its boundless logic and the recurrence of imagery and event will gradually layer up to something much more substantial.
Comparison to Lewis Carrol's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is totally appropriate, as I would also consider this to be an entry in the literary nonsense genre. While the story is plenty enjoyable on the surface level, as an out-of-this-world fantasy adventure with a historical bent, there lies a deeper, more mature undercurrent throughout; I picked up references to mental illness, societal treatment to women at the time, and the first-settlers hardship on unfamiliar land.
This is yet again another book for which I would highly recommend the audio version, as Laird Hunt's sing-song writing style really comes alive when delivered through a narrator. Which, I should also add, is a nice echo to how fairy tales were kept relevant in the first place, through word of mouth passing down from generation to generation.
Written and structured like a traditional bedtime story, but with a darker subject matter; In the House in the Dark of the Woods is a memorizing blend of child-like fantasy and mature horror, one that I will return to in constant dosage.
Sliver by Ira Levin
3.0
3 stars
Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window with a 90s tech spin; while it brings to the table compelling exploration on voyeurism, television culture, and make-believe, It's also oddly shallow and under-cooked, resulting in a thriller that entertains, but comes up short of its full potential.
Briefly on the butchered 1993 film adaptation (which was what brought me reading the book in the first place): The film maintains the same cast of character and the basic framework (a high-rise apartment in New York City with a less than desirable track record), but tells a heavily altered, all together different whodunit plot line. Still, to give credit where credit is due, the casting of Sharon Stone and William Baldwin is spot-on, and the film does a great job bringing the environment to life (the high-rise looks impeccable); so maybe watch a trailer if you're interested in reading, just to gain some visual references.
The lack of correlation between the two versions kept the reading fresh; the novel dives in deeper into the concept of 'watching'—from something that is made to be consumed (television and publishing), to something that is considered unacceptable conduct (voyeurism). Ira Levin is not afraid to push some characters into morally gray territory, and conjures up interesting circumstance on privacy and innate curiosity. The novel is ultimately a study on media consumption, and even a little ahead of its time with some of the characters' 'binge' behavior.
As much as I'm fascinated by the subject matter it's exploring, Sliver under-delivers as a thriller; the plot, while never boring, takes too long to set up, and the thrill barely has time to land its punches, before the short book ends on an out-of-left-field climax/closure. While definitely more coherent compares to its cinema counterpart, I can see why the filmmaker decided to rewrite the story from the ground up; the book feels a little aimless, like it has yet figured out just what is the story it wants to tell. Which is rather ironic, because the heroine is literally a publishing editor specializes in thrillers and Gothics.
You can tell Sliver is written by a seasoned master, with its lean and razor-sharp writing, and clever juxtaposition of ideas and concepts. It's too bad it also feels abandoned, like Ira Levin simply lost interest after the first draft. To conclude my own journey with Sliver: yes, the book is better, but only marginally so.
Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window with a 90s tech spin; while it brings to the table compelling exploration on voyeurism, television culture, and make-believe, It's also oddly shallow and under-cooked, resulting in a thriller that entertains, but comes up short of its full potential.
Briefly on the butchered 1993 film adaptation (which was what brought me reading the book in the first place): The film maintains the same cast of character and the basic framework (a high-rise apartment in New York City with a less than desirable track record), but tells a heavily altered, all together different whodunit plot line. Still, to give credit where credit is due, the casting of Sharon Stone and William Baldwin is spot-on, and the film does a great job bringing the environment to life (the high-rise looks impeccable); so maybe watch a trailer if you're interested in reading, just to gain some visual references.
The lack of correlation between the two versions kept the reading fresh; the novel dives in deeper into the concept of 'watching'—from something that is made to be consumed (television and publishing), to something that is considered unacceptable conduct (voyeurism). Ira Levin is not afraid to push some characters into morally gray territory, and conjures up interesting circumstance on privacy and innate curiosity. The novel is ultimately a study on media consumption, and even a little ahead of its time with some of the characters' 'binge' behavior.
As much as I'm fascinated by the subject matter it's exploring, Sliver under-delivers as a thriller; the plot, while never boring, takes too long to set up, and the thrill barely has time to land its punches, before the short book ends on an out-of-left-field climax/closure. While definitely more coherent compares to its cinema counterpart, I can see why the filmmaker decided to rewrite the story from the ground up; the book feels a little aimless, like it has yet figured out just what is the story it wants to tell. Which is rather ironic, because the heroine is literally a publishing editor specializes in thrillers and Gothics.
You can tell Sliver is written by a seasoned master, with its lean and razor-sharp writing, and clever juxtaposition of ideas and concepts. It's too bad it also feels abandoned, like Ira Levin simply lost interest after the first draft. To conclude my own journey with Sliver: yes, the book is better, but only marginally so.
When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare
4.0
4 stars
At this point it's almost scary how consistently endearing Tessa Dare's novels are. Even with the formulaic structure, one can't help but be enchanted by the charismatic leads, and feeling all warm and fuzzy when the story reaches its expected happily ever after.
For me, When a Scot Ties the Knot is not as strong as the other Tessa Dare books I've read (those being Romancing the Duke, and Do You Want to Start a Scandal), mainly due to the absence of a substantial narrative through-line; lengthy buildups often get quickly resolved (or completely abandoned), and the plot is burdened with events that ultimately lead to no relevant consequence. The nonsensical padding feels a little glaring in this entry.
But the shortcoming in plot is quickly made up by the power couple; Madeline and Logan is the most dynamic Tessa Dare pairing I've encountered thus far, primarily due to Logan's lively, rambunctious personality, who teases and flirts with Madeline at any opportunity, instead of usual mannered, austere romantic interest who takes time to warm up. The expertly written, and sassy moment-to-moment interaction between the leads is what's keeping this book afloat.
All in all, When a Scot Ties the Knot is another enjoyable entry, even if it is at times lean on story, the charming couple will keep you entertained.
At this point it's almost scary how consistently endearing Tessa Dare's novels are. Even with the formulaic structure, one can't help but be enchanted by the charismatic leads, and feeling all warm and fuzzy when the story reaches its expected happily ever after.
For me, When a Scot Ties the Knot is not as strong as the other Tessa Dare books I've read (those being Romancing the Duke, and Do You Want to Start a Scandal), mainly due to the absence of a substantial narrative through-line; lengthy buildups often get quickly resolved (or completely abandoned), and the plot is burdened with events that ultimately lead to no relevant consequence. The nonsensical padding feels a little glaring in this entry.
But the shortcoming in plot is quickly made up by the power couple; Madeline and Logan is the most dynamic Tessa Dare pairing I've encountered thus far, primarily due to Logan's lively, rambunctious personality, who teases and flirts with Madeline at any opportunity, instead of usual mannered, austere romantic interest who takes time to warm up. The expertly written, and sassy moment-to-moment interaction between the leads is what's keeping this book afloat.
All in all, When a Scot Ties the Knot is another enjoyable entry, even if it is at times lean on story, the charming couple will keep you entertained.